Caleb's poem brought this to mind, written last week so a bit of a cheat. Must have been the same summer.
hot
there was one summer
without a number
when the eggs fried on pavements
hot you said it's bloody hot
I nod in agreement
and watch you
sponge your neck and chest
the veranda door
opens onto a cast iron balcony
there you lean over the handrail
gaze across the rooftops
to Chelsea
I'll live there one day you said
I knew then that I was just
a passing fancy
but there was sex and horse
and we lived enough to live
the grass was good that year
and you stood naked
looking down on the streets
laughing at me being a prude
and making love
and making love
but it was hot
bloody hot
Jim
http://www.poetrykit.org/jim/index.htm
www.poetrykit.org
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Jim Bennett's poetry collection "The Man Who Tried to Hug Clouds"
pub 2004 by Bluechrome (reprinted 2006) read about it or order from;
http://www.bluechrome.co.uk/
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PK On-line Poetry Workshop
http://pk-poetry-list.port5.com/
JIM BENNETT - Publisher's site
http://www.poetrykit.org/jim/index.htm
An interview at;
http://www.poetrykit.org/iv00/bennett.htm
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